Jason Andresen (order #1578489) - Jump page for Jubei

Iron Lich
Iron Lich, 12th-Level Human Wizard
Large Undead (Augmented Humanoid)
Hit Dice: 12d12 (78 hp)
Initiative: +4
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares; cannot run)
Armor Class: 24 (–1 size, +15 natural),
touch 9, flat-footed 24
Base Attack/Grapple: +6/+15
Attack: Slam +10 melee (1d8+5) or
claw +10 melee (1d8+5) or
+2 quarterstaff +12 melee (1d6+9)
Full Attack: Slam +10 melee (1d8+5) or
claw +10 melee (1d8+5) or
+2 quarterstaff +12/+7 melee (1d6+9)
Space/Reach: 10 ft./10 ft.
Special Attacks: Spells
Special Qualities: +4 turn resistance, cold vulnerability,
damage reduction 10/magic, darkvision
60 ft., energy resistance fire and electricity
20, firebox vulnerability, reliance on fuel,
soul sight, special healing, undead traits
How many times must my research be interrupted? In
this field it seems far too many for my liking. I suppose,
it is my choice. I could stay in the university,
studying more ancient tomes than ancient tombs, but
out in the field is where real knowledge and history are found.
One such interrupted dig was deep within the Wyrmwall
Mountains. My team and I had spent weeks searching for the hidden
pass that would take us to the tomb of Ardin, archwizard of
Caspia. We found the tomb and set to mapping and disarming the
many traps laid about it. After several days of this, we finally made
our way into the central chamber where Ardin himself was allegedly
interred with the legendary Dirgestaff of Shyrr .
For the life of me, I could not decipher the crawling script
etched into the face of the large stone doors just outside the burial
chamber. I recall my study was cut short by a scream, followed
seconds later by another. My colleagues brandished their weapons,
and I did the same. We stood ready to face whatever horror caused
our bearers outside to shriek in such a way.
Whatever it was now came stomping toward the chamber,
nothing between the doors save us and our blades. Abruptly, several
thralls, covered in more runes than I had ever thought possible,
sallied forth from that ancient crumbling archway, followed
by a hissing, steaming monstrosity that I swear had to be a small
steamjack save for that hideous human skull atop it, eye sockets
aglow. It turned a malevolent visage upon me and gestured with
114
Saves: Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +11
Abilities: Str 20, Dex 10, Con —,
Int 19, Wis 16, Cha 16
Skills: Concentration +15, Craft (alchemy) +19,
Craft (steamworks) +19, Decipher Script +19,
Knowledge (arcana) +19, Listen +11,
Search +12, Sense Motive +11,
Spellcraft +21, Spot +11
Feats: Brew Potion, Combat Casting, Craft
Wondrous Item, Create Thrall, Heighten
Spell, Improved Initiative, Lightning
Reflexes, Quicken Spell, Scribe Scroll
Environment: Any land and underground
Organization: Solitary
Challenge Rating: 14
Alignment: Neutral evil
Advancement: By character class
a mechanikal staff. I felt my limbs and joints become rigid as a
board, held fast by its magics. Glancing around as best I could,
I saw I was not the only one affected by the paralytic enchantment;
we were all, every one of us, frozen in place. I remember
thinking about all that I had seen and encountered in my days,
and what an absurd way this was to end them, standing in place
like some slack-jawed buffoon.
But the iron lich stepped past me, toward the sealed tomb, and
spoke a word. The chamber door opened of its own volition, and
the lich disappeared inside. While their master was within, the
thralls amused themselves by torturing and killing my comrades.
Whether they did this for their amusement or by their master’s
order was beyond me. I simply prayed to Morrow that the magic
would expire before it came to my turn. I hoped at least to go down
with a fight, and perhaps take a few of them with me.
Moments later, the iron lich returned from Ardin’s chamber,
bearing two staves—the one it bore upon entering and the other
presumably the Dirgestaff of Shyrr. It hissed a few arcane words
and walked out of the tomb, followed diligently by its thrall servitors.
Why did it let us live? I can only assume we were beneath
its notice. It had what it had come for—to my everlasting chagrin—and
our presence was of no matter whatsoever. Albeit
several companions of mine lay in a pool of blood, slaughtered
like lambs, I, for one, am grateful to have survived the day, and
my encounter with an iron lich.
Jason Andresen (order #1578489) 9